


Liquid Sunshine

by sunflowerbright



Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: AU, F/M, Fluff, Fluuuuuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 19:22:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/665548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerbright/pseuds/sunflowerbright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Life isn't finding shelter in the storm. It's about learning to dance in the rain.' (Sherrilyn Kenyon)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liquid Sunshine

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/keep_counting/pic/0003etx1/)

 

_**(one)** _ **Pour**

 

The rain is falling steadily outside, an uneven stream of water turning everything blurry and giving the air a scent of fresh grass and lilies.

When Marian was younger, she would run outside, spin around in the droplets and muddying up her clothes. Her father would smile fondly, eventually ushering her in to be wrapped in a blanket, safe from illness.

There’s no one to call her in from the rain now. It falls and falls, spiraling downwards from the heavens, drenching her through-out. She’s shivering in the cold, wondering when the rain stopped being new life and started being the symbol of her inner self, the grey feeling of loneliness that used to be occupied by her father’s gentle face.

“Marian?” The voice is coloured with hesitation, as if the speaker is unsure if it is really her. She turns around, peering out through wet locks of hair and sees the dark shadow detaching itself from its place, moving forward, but stopping right where the roof does, no intention of stepping into the rain.

“Marian!” It’s an exclamation now, as Guy recognizes her and he inches away from her in an instant, the water making his hair impossibly darker and clinging to his forehead. He looks like he did that day when Robin almost drowned him, when he accused her of lies and betrayal that she knew where false and true at the same time. It makes her angry just thinking about it and that spark is the first emotion she has felt for days.

She can’t stand the worry in his eyes, so she flings her arms around him, burying her face in the material of his jacket, forehead pressed against his shoulder. He starts in surprise, standing tense and unsure, before his arms readily wind around her frame. She can feel lips on her hair as he repeats her name for the third time. The rain is still pouring down around them, the noise like a beating drum that matches her hearts steady rhythm. The melody is broken by him, because she can hear his heart jump around wildly, as if scared of something.

She lets him pull away, more than disappointed and happy that the rain will hide any tears that might threaten to come. But then he takes hold of her hand and gently leads her inside, away from the down-pour and cold. Marian tells herself that the lump in her throat is the beginning of a cold and not something that she dares not name.

Guy pulls her back into his arms and she feels warm again.

 

 

 

_**(two)** _ **Drenched**

 

It is raining when she kisses him.

It’s not their first kiss, but it feels like it, because it’s the first time there’s no ulterior motive, no distractions, no thinking about anything but the soft press of his lips against hers.

Marian wonders why the hell it took her so long to do this.

She wonders if he can feel the difference from now and then, if he can tell that now she’s being completely honest, that now it is only because she wasn’t to be impossibly close to him that she is here, that it isn’t to get information, isn’t to distract him, isn’t to hurt him.

She’s here only because she wants to.

She freezes as he pulls away, but relaxes as it is only to press his lips against her wet nose, her temple, her cheek, her hair. He’s holding her tightly to him and she should feel smothered and claustrophobic, but there is only the joy of knowing that someone actually wants to hold her this way, like they never want to let her go again.

“Guy,” She whispers, and if he holds her much tighter, she’s going to lose the ability to breathe, but right now she doesn’t care about that, doesn’t care about anything but the fact that she is in the rain: for the first time since she was seven and ankle-deep in mud, she feels like Nottingham is still her home.

 

 

 

_**(three)** _ **Pitter-patter**

 

There is the unmistakable sound of small feet running up the stairs – well, pounding actually – and her son appears in the door-way, face flushed and slightly out of breath.

“Raining! Mother it’s raining!”

Marian turns around to face him with some difficulty, smiling brightly as she does.

“Is it?” She glances at the window, first now noticing the sound of water hitting the roof.

“Will you go and play with me in it? Please, mother!” His eyes are as dark as his hair, round and wide in their innocence and she immediately moves to get up, startled when a heavy hand rests on her shoulder. 

“No.” Guy says, his voice leaving no room for argument. His eyes soften as they fall on the boy who has, by now, folded his arms over his chest and is glaring at his father. “It’s not good for her health.” He quietly explains and the boy understands immediately, nodding and turning around to run outside and find someone else to play with.

Marian refrains from huffing at the almost smothering concern that both men in her life has for her, but she shows it by sending her husband a withering glare. Guy just raises his eyebrows at her.

“In your condition? Not a chance.” He says, the harsh words contradicted by the hand now stroking her neck. “Five months pregnant and you want to run out in the rain?”

Marian smiles. “I like the rain.”

“Yes, but let me assure you that this is England and it’s more likely that it would snow in the Holy Land, than that it would stop raining over here. You'll get another chance to catch a cold in it.”

She catches his hand in hers, holding it tightly. “If you say so, Guy.”

Outside the rain falls harder, the soft pitter-patter creating noises that fits her world so perfectly.


End file.
